Page 12 of Blue Skies
“No, I’m… No. I’m good,” Holden said and headed back to his seat.
“First-class wanker,” Paul muttered under his breath. He gave Greg an assessing glance. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Greg risked looking toward the front of the plane and felt his stomach drop when Holden turned just at that moment. They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Holden offered a small smile, and Greg looked away without acknowledging it. “I met him at a club in WeHo last week. Guy told me he was flying out the next morning.”
“So, obviously…” Paul grabbed some extra hot cups and added them to the stack on the cart.
“Yeah.” Greg nodded, grateful he didn’t need to elaborate any further because Paul got it.
Therestoftheflight was uneventful. Holden stayed hidden behind the curtain in first class. Greg and Paul completed the beverage service, collected the trash, and got the galley secure for landing as they began their descent into Denver.
The flight got increasingly choppy as they neared their destination, and Greg broke out the sea bands he kept in his kit for these situations. When the captain alerted the flight attendants to prepare for landing, Greg and Paul strapped themselves into the jump seats.
“I will be so glad to see home,” Greg said as he massaged the plastic bead against his wrist.
“You aren’t planning on heading into the mountains today, are you?” Paul asked. He’d been one of the attendants teasing Greg about his Denver roots and calling him a Rocky Mountain High Boy when they’d boarded.
“I was,” Greg said. “It’s not that bad of a trip.”
“It is when there’s a storm coming. How did you not know this?”
Greg opened and closed his mouth a few times, about to protest but then realizing he hadn’t checked the weather app recently with everything he’d had going on. It was late March. Most years, the snow was pretty much done accumulating by now.
It hadn’t been a normal year, though, Greg realized. There’d been snow in LA at the beginning of the month, the Sierras were buried under a twenty-foot snowpack, and Yosemite was closed indefinitely due to a record-breaking winter. Somehow, he hadn’t thought to check the weather conditions for the trip from Denver to Aspen since he’d planned on taking the bus like he always did. While his carrier covered hotels for layovers, Greg was officially on vacation as soon as this flight landed and hadn’t thought about booking anything because he was supposed to be with his parents that night.
“I don’t even have a place to stay.” He let his head fall backward. “Shit.”
“Language,” Paul chided but patted him on the leg. “Though I do understand the sentiment. I wish I could offer you a hotel room to bunk in, but we’re all heading on to Kansas City after this.” He sighed as the plane shook, and Greg pressed the plastic bead against the pressure point a little harder. “No rest for the wicked.”
Greg grimaced. “I’m sure I’ll find something.”
The plane rocked as it continued its descent, and Greg noticed snow swirling outside the galley window. He couldn’t confirm what Paul had told him until they landed, but the weather definitely looked like it had taken a turn for the worse, a fact that was confirmed after they landed and Greg was able to look at his phone. He didn’t even need to check the weather app; his parents had texted him that the storm was already pretty bad where they were and he should stay in Denver until the roads cleared.
Paul wished him luck as Greg left the plane with passengers, and he grimly acknowledged that he was going to need it. He’d already checked one travel app and discovered that with the storm coming in, flights had been delayed or canceled, and the hotels were filling up. He clicked through the apps on his phone as he headed for the baggage claim. Ordinarily, Greg traveled with just his flight case, but he’d been heading home and checked a bag through to Denver so he’d have clothes for cold weather and skiing.
Waiting for his bag to arrive, Greg switched from one app to another, finding that most of the available rooms were in hotels that were either too expensive or dodgy. He’d almost given up hope of finding anything when he found something he could afford. It was a bit out of his price range, but at this point, Greg was willing to splurge to get a place to stay. He filled out the necessary information and touched the button to reserve the room just as the buzzer sounded on the baggage carousel, signaling the arrival of the LAX-to-Denver flight’s luggage, and followed the Air Tag on his phone as his bag was moved from the plane to the terminal.
It didn’t take long after that for Greg’s bag to hit the conveyor belt, and then he was heading for the train. He caught a brief glimpse of Holden at the taxi stand. Holden was talking to another guy, or rather, he was listening as the other guy talked, but Greg could tell he wasn’t paying attention. The other guy nudged Holden’s shoulder a couple of times to emphasize whatever he was saying, and each time Greg saw a grimace cross Holden’s features.
Greg shook his head as he continued his trek to the train. How Holden felt about his traveling companion was no concern of his. Right now, all he wanted to think about was getting to his hotel, stripping out of his clothes, and getting into a nice warm shower.
Anhour,atrainride, and a few bus stops later, Greg wheeled his bags into the lobby for the Curtis and found that they didn’t have a record of the reservation he’d made at the airport. Either he hadn’t pressed the right buttons or two people had tried to reserve the last remaining room at the same time, the desk clerk didn’t know, but the hotel was now fully booked, and there wasn’t anything she could do for him. She offered a few suggestions and use of the hotel’s lobby and coffee bar while he searched for somewhere to stay.
Greg thanked her and wheeled his bags to the lounge area to the side of the front entrance. A quick scroll through his room finder app showed him that, unsurprisingly, rooms were even scarcer than they’d been when he first looked. He availed himself of the free coffee, settling back into his seat and resuming his search, even though he had a sinking feeling it was useless. There simply wasn’t anything available that he could afford. He hated the idea of sleeping at the airport, but that might be his only option at this point.
He was staring out the window at the falling snow—it was starting to pile up pretty deep on the street now—when he became aware of someone standing in front of him.
“For the record, I was supposed to fly back to Virginia the morning after we met,” Holden said, “but my plans got changed at the last minute, and I needed to stay in LA another couple of days.”
“Okay.” Greg was too distracted by his own predicament to wonder why Holden felt the need to tell him this.
“I didn’t lie to you, but you didn’t text me, so I thought you weren’t interested.”
Greg nodded, then resumed scrolling, even though it was futile at this point. He figured if he ignored Holden, the man would leave him alone, but that didn’t happen.
“Are you staying in the hotel?” he asked.
With a grimace, Greg shook his head. “I thought I’d made a reservation, but…” He gestured toward the front desk, too tired and anxious to feel any frustration or anger. “They didn’t have it when I tried to check in.”
